Chatty log | Zanzibar

Zanzibar

09 February

John: We plunge into the bright clear water for a morning snorkel to explore the reputedly pristine reefs before heading off again for Stone Town. We find a sad scene. Heavily-bombed reef, some blast circles appearing quite recent (last few years, perhaps) with just one predominant type of hard (massive) coral growing to replace the crushed reef, taking over the whole area. There are few fish, many very small ones, nothing large. Local outrigger fishing boats pass us all the time we are on the reef, on their way to fish a little further on. Nothing left here. This seems to be the story at so many places, that and the ubiquitous plastic rubbish on beaches, washed up the length and breadth of the Indian Ocean. We end the day with building wind and a sporting sail right up to Zanzibar Stonetown. We arrive just as the sun sets and have the exhilarating experience of first sailing close-hauled through the outlying reefs in 20 knots of wind, then motoring into the crowded bay in pitch darkness, backlit with shorelights that blind the eye, with numerous large ferries and miscellaneous wooden boats motoring by. The former seem intent on blinding us with searchlights playing over our boat, the latter are in stealth-mode; absolutely without lights. It seems they even extinguish cigarettes to achieve total blackout, in homage to the second-world war London blitz days? I spotted one boat on radar at 3/4 n.m. and realised we were on a collision course. I slowed and turned to port, but we didn't see his hull, matt black against the black of the night sky and sea, until we passed him maybe 30 m on our starboard beam - chugging ominously by.

10 February

John: Caro labours to get the Misali material together for Ali Said so we can take it down to the Institute of Marine Sciences for him to collect. We eventually get ashore (though nearly swamped by a sporting swell crashing on the beach) and up to IMS just before midday. It seems our contact there has been waiting since 10:00, expecting us earlier. After a somewhat rocky start, we are introduced to the Menai Conservation Area Programme manager and our Menai Dolphin contact, Omar, with whom we make plans to go over to Menai and meet the village folk and research students tomorrow. Lunch at a funky little Indian place overlooking the sea, then clear in at the raucous little port. We wrap up with a (predictably) futile visit to DHL to see about our long-lost package from West Marine. It seems DHL have scr*wed it up yet again (at least they're consistent) and instead of forwarding it to us, have returned it to the US. This was apparently done a month ago, and we've been wasting our time writing and emailing ever since because we were told it had been collected in Mayotte. Enough already! We're hot, tired and give up on the idea of visiting the market, returning to Jocara for a relax before dinner and a movie.

Caro: Menai Bay has a resident pod of Bottlenose dolphins that have become a tourist attraction. Small boats from 2 villages take small numbers of tourists out to see and swim with the dolphins. There are guidelines for the boat operators, such as not more than 2 boats near a pod, but these are not observed. The Institute of Marine Sciences would like to improve the way the dolphin watching is done. Our project this coming week is to film the boats, the tourists and the dolphins. Also to film the behaviour of the dolphins when there are no boats around. These clips can then be used to make a movie to teach the boat operators about dolphins and encourage them to stick to the guidelines.

11 February

Caro: We would like to send a CD back to Singapore to update the site. John is working like mad to get it ready but it still takes a while and when he goes ashore he finds the Post Office has just closed at noon. Unfortunate. Off to Menai Bay where we have an oppointment at 4pm to meet Omar. When we put in the route we discover that it's 26 miles away instead of about 12 as we thought. There is no way we can arrive there in time. That makes us feel really bad and we go as fast as we can, running the engine as hard as we dare, burning up the fuel we want to use sparingly. Even so, we don't get there until 5:30 pm, race ashore with the dinghy and find a relieved Omar. He's been setting things up with the villagers so they know we're coming and what we'll be doing. We walk into Dimbani village, which is very pretty, and meet a few local people, including the head of the school. We'll have some kids come and visit Jocara on Monday. We also meet the 3 Swedish researchers, Anna, Maria and Stina and arrange to meet tomorrow.

12 February

Caro: At 10 am we meet Omar, Anna, Maria and Stina at the restaurant and show them what we're up to this year. They tell us a bit about their research and we make plans for the next few days. Whilst sitting there we see some fishermen coming up the beach with 2 really big fish. We go and have a look as they're gutting these huge groupers. Half the village male population is also watching. After lunch ashore John and I head back to the boat and have a hull cleaning session. It doesn't look too bad yet. We seem to be anchored near a nice bit of quite varied reef with lots of fish. The kids have been playing on the beach (they needed to have some space to run wild) and return when it's already dark.

John: Here we are, diving and snorkeling at all the recomedned places in the Southern Indian Ocean to see great reef and fish and often finding ourselves dissappointed. Then we anchor right on top of some of the most varied and healthy coral and fish life we've seen in a long time! I dragged Caro away from scraping the hull to take a quick look, and there's really lots of great stuff right below us. Makes me feel guilty about trailing our great heavy iron anchor chain links all through it.

13 February

Caro: Maria is studying the impact of the tourists on the dolphins and we join her on a rented local boat this morning. Omar is with us too. It doesn't take long to find the dolphins, just head for the lump of boats in the distance. There are 5 or 6 boats chasing the dolphins. As they get close the tourists jump in with their snorkeling gear and swim like mad towards the dolphins. If they're lucky they just get to see the dolphins swimming away. It's not very nice to see the dolphins harassed like this. They are chased for hours by many boats. If this is their resting period it must be very annoying at the least. They are continously swimming away. The tourists do not know how to approach the dolphins, jumping in the water and finning with great splashes. I'm getting it all on video. After all the boats have left for lunch we have a more gentler go ourselves at watching the dolphins. We quietly lower ourselves in the water and swim around. We get awarded with a nice view of 2 small groups of dolphins calmly travelling. But clearly they've had enough of humans and do not come to investigate. We return to Jocara and have Maria and Omar over for lunch and show the video taken in the morning. There are some useful clips. We also decide it would be a good idea to interview some tourists to ask them about their dolphin watching experience. We asked one guy this morning who didn't think the chasing was good. If most tourists think that way, that will be very useful for the operators to know! The kids take Maria and Omar back to shore and come back with half a tuna and 5 little snappers that they bought from some fishermen. John rolls the tuna steaks in herbs and quickly sears them in hot oil. Meanwhile the kids have spotted squid hanging around the boat and for the first time manage catching some of them. They're good in a pasta sauce. The cats are very happy too. Portions have been meager lately and we're down to the last can of cat food.

John: The triumph of actually catching some squid is really firing up the kids! Not a bad size, either.

14 February

Caro: Today we had two groups of pupils from the local schools visiting Jocara. Omar was with them so he could translate. The kids were very interested; some of them had never been on a boat before (any boat!). The first group was from Dimbani, the village where we are for anchor. They are, we heard, in competition with the village a few kilometers further south and we have to make sure they get the same treatment and opportunities. We explained about the boat, had them look around and showed them the movies. Unfortunately, there was no wind and no air flowing through the boat. The temperature inside kept rising and it went up to 34 degrees. Everybody was sweating, but still they were in no hurry to leave. We later heard they were very happy about the visit. The kids have got into squid fishing in a big way. In the evening the catch rate improved dramatically, so we'll have calamari rings and squid pasta for lunch tomorrow. I spent a few hours in the afternoon working on the site, revamping the places area.

15 February

Caro: Researching dolphins may sound very glamorous, but most of the time it's a drag. We got up at 6 am to be ready with our camera gear for pick-up at 6:30. We then spent hours looking for dolphins and not finding any. Motoring along first south, then north and then west on a small boat with no shade getting hotter and hotter. It's already late in the morning when we finally spot a pod of dolphins. After Anna has taken some dorsal fin shots John and I get into the water with our cameras. John is the lucky one, about 6 dolphins come check him out and he gets some great shots of them coming towards him. I'm just too far away to get any footage, the visibility is not very good. Then this little pod gets together with another pod and off they all go and we head back to the village and Jocara. We spent maybe 20 minutes with the dolphins. Not a long time, but it was a good time. No tourist boats chasing them away, we had them to ourselves and John got some great images. Back on board the kids prepare a wonderful pasta lunch. Then at 4 pm I joined Anna, Maria and Stina on their trip to Stone Town. They go up there once a week and spend 1 night in a hotel to do some shopping (there's very little available in the village) and go to an internet cafe. We enjoyed dinner on the terras of Africa House Hotel where we had a wonderful view of a very colourful sunset. I'm thorougly enjoying having female company for a change!

John: I'm glad Caro has this opportunity to immerse herself in oestrogen instead of being surrounded by testosterone all the time. It must be tough, having to live with us three guys. I am full of plans to re-do the interactive menu bar and other jobs on the website, but I also know that this is going to be tricky and there's a sporting chance Caro won't like the new version anyway; the website's really her baby and she's understandably possesive about the design. In the evening we go ashore to try and find Alex's reef boots; he left them ashore the other day playing and only just realised. We don't find the boots, and the restaurant is closed, but I'm rewarded by a spectacular sunset and get some great pics of it while the kids romp on the beach.

16 February

Caro: It's a very hot day in Stone Town. After a short morning of chores we settle down to a relaxed lunch in the shady garden of Amore Mio overlooking the sea. Then it's back to the internet cafe where I read up on our friends cruising on Espiritu and find they are now in the Atlantic Ocean and on their way to Brasil. Just as we were starting to do the big food shop I get a migraine. Very bad timing. I'm incapacitated. Anna does my shopping for me. It's a few tough hours for me in the noisy bumpy car before we get back to the village and John can help me back to the boat and to my quiet dark bed.

John: The kids are driving me crazy. They don't care, don't listen, don't learn. They are spoilt, selfish, short-sighted, narrow-minded, ignorant, foolish... just like normal kids, really. OK,now I've had my rant. The kids have also been catching great numbers of squid, spraying the boat from stem to stern with black squid ink in the process, but procesing them in batches for calamari rings and pasta sauce. This afternoon we scraped the hull for a while and I took Casper then Alex for a short dive on the reef. We saw a Mantis Shrimp, about 120 mm long, so pretty large. We also saw large jacks and some snappers. Both kids were on my case to go spearfishing, so Casper and I went in with the Beuchat (Alex had a headache and stayed aboard). I missed one shot at a jack, and they became rather shy after that... My second shot speared a good-sized little snapper, brought flapping onto deck. Then I cut my hands up with an accidental release of one of the rubbers and gave it up for the day. I bruised up my stomach a few times loading the gun, too. Must be too old and flabby for this game. Casper cooked up a delicious snapper and squid sauce with fetuccini for dinner,while I went ashore to get Caro. Only to find her in Anna's bed, laid low by migraine. So, back to the boat for a quiet night. I continue working on the menu for the website, and by late night I think I have it sorted.

17 February

John: We are all hot, tired and grotty this morning, Caro is depressed at the mess on the boat. Not that it has just got any worse; indeed, I've been striving to get it together while she was away. Coming back to it after being away makes her realise how much things have gone to hell over the past months. We simply can't keep up, and the kids are just adding to the work every minute of the day, it seems. Before we know it, it's lunch time and we go ashore to interview some tourists returning from their dolphin encounters. We are shocked and appalled at how little these people know or understand about dolphins, their need to breathe and not be encircled, trapped, hunted or dive-bombed by the boats around them. One was only a little disappointed because he so very nearly managed to get close enough to touch one, but was just not quite able to reach. Others felt that the dolphins were playing with them, when they also said that they only caught fleeting views of their tailfins as they powered away each time they got into the water. Some were having second thoughts about the way the pod of just 4 dolphins was hunted by 6-7 boats in pursuit. Back on the boat, we discover that the video sound has something wrong with it and we can't hear what the interviewees are saying. Rats! We'll have to do it all again. I'm not sure I can keep a straight face and smile for another batch of this.

Caro: I do get depressed sometimes about the state of the boat. I don't mind the untidyness too much, although it means you cannot find anything, but everywhere you look has marks that won't come off. The hull is full of little damages and dirt that won't come off, the deck is full of squid ink on which you can scrub as long as you like. Inside the pink carpet is more grey than pink and buttons are falling off the sofa cushions. Well, on and on really. She needs a complete cosmetic make-over, but what's the point. Better forget about it for now.

18 February

John: Up at 05:50 again to be picked up at 06:30 by Anna on her way out to find the dolphins in the quiet of the morning. Only it gets to 07:00 and no Anna. She calls on the radio; engine trouble. I go over to help. Some kind of electrical problem, they say. Can't raise or lower the outboard. The switch clicks but there's no movement. We spend an hour tracing the fault. The boat drivers think it is the switch. Anna has found a disconnected plug and figures this could be the problem. Together we trace the power lines and find the relay. It seems to work, and there's 12v power switched to the pump motor. But no motor noise. We finally concede that we'll have to beach the boat and get the fundi (mechanic) up from Stonetown to work on the pump motor. We'll have to wait all day for low tide, it's on the rise now. Just as I'm preparing to climb back into the dinghy I have an idea. I get a hammer from my toolbox and walk back. Anna and the boat drivers (one from each village, to avoid jealous rivalry) are smirking. What on earth do I plan to fix with just a hammer? I stride up to the outboard, press the switch to raise the outboard and lightly tap the outside casing of the motor. It springs into life and all is solved. Everyone bursts into laughter. A magic hammer! Out on the water, we find just one pod of maybe 10-15 animals all morning. We get a brief view of a few in the water, but no decent video or stills, before they move off. The wind is up a little and the water rough, making it hard to see and tiring to be in a little aluminium boat bouncing along. Finally, at 14:00, we give it up for the day.

19 February

Caro: Once again we're up before 6 am and out on the water searching for dolphins by 6:30. When we don't find them towards the south we head west towards the island with the lighthouse. This is where we find dolphins. Quite a lot of them in small groups spread out over the area. They seem to be socialising and travelling only slowly. We have a new plan for today. John and I are going to hang of a short loop of rope covered in hose of the bow of the boat with our cameras. Then the boat can slowly follow the dolphins and we get more chance to film and photograph them. Easier said than done, hanging on with one arm to the line, with the other to the camera, operate the camera and point it in the right direction whilst all the time struggling for breath because the snorkel keeps flopping below the surface! But it was absolutely fabulous to see the dolphins underwater. Suddenly dolphin life unfolded before my eyes. Here were dolphins interacting with each other. One pair was touching each with their pectoral fins, others were nosing one another. They were also very curious about us and had a good look. Perfect for filming, but I still didn't get very good footage because I was struggling with too many things (I really need to breath every now and then!) and was pointing the camera a little bit too high. John got some great pictures though. We'd like to have some more opportunities to film them this way, thinking that with a bit more practice we'll do a lot better, but time is up. Anna needs to focus on her research and cannot take any more time out. It was really good of her to take us along for 3 days.

John: when I get back to Jocara and download the images, I realise that they are mostly blurry - a bit of a disappointment. I probably need to set up the autofocus to have it track all the time; the dolphins sweep by too quickly to allow the camera to focus before firing. Read the manual (If all else fails, RTFM)! Now we're plotting how we can get back out to have another try. The afternoon is packed with action. A group of 10 teachers from the local school visited soon after we got back (hot. tired, dehydrated and sore from the sun), bringing with them a yellowfin Tuna that Anna had arranged to get for us yesterday that's been in someone's freezer for the night. I start right in preparing the sushi rice and cleaning the Tuna while the teachers are exploring the boat, amazed at how a family can live on board a boat and still more amazed that Caroline is leading the tour and I am in the galley working on the evening meal. Anna, Maria and Stina arrive at 18:30 in time for sundowner drinks and I'm still flapping about in the galley preparing the meal. We have white wine and Tanga cheese for Hor d'oevres, sashimi with wasabi and soy sauce for the next course, then sushi with carrot strips and avocado (they're so goood here!) with some small Californian tamaki Finally I serve the seared Ahi in spicy Cajun-style herbs (seared on all sides for a few seconds, refrigerated then sliced thinly). Fabulous! Our Swedish guests have brought a sticky chocolate cake for dessert to round off the evening. What a meal!

20 February

John: The pile of dishes in the galley lies festering in wait for Alex and Casper to get up enough courage to attack the job. They fight over it, as usual. Caro and I go ashore to try some interviews but find few tourists and none with anything interesting to say. The kids get to play a while in the sand and shallows around the boats, which is good. We have lunch ashore at 'Cabs' (owned by the charismatic Abbas, a local entrepreneur, diver, shark story teller, humpback whale saver and more). Maybe we'll go diving with Abbas; he's a divemaster and can show us some good spots. Back on the boat I set about making up a trapeze that we can tow from the bowsprit in the hopes of getting more images of dolphins. I use the (otherwise useless) 4m pole we have and carve out a teak holding bar to rig a system to tow someone alongside the boat just back from the bow and (hopefully) away from the side to avoid getting beaten up as badly as we were on Anna's boat. Alex offers to test-pilot the device (christened the 'Dolphin Trapeze', though I refer to it as 'Deathtrap One') tomorrow.

21 February

John: Caro goes ashore to join up with a tourist boat to get more video of the action (there's a big group coming in today). I give her a lift and hang around long enough to see that it's going to work out then back to the boat to work on cleaning up the dolphin images. The kids are both sleeping in - they need the rest. I also want to get the bowcam going again. Seems it was just a lose plug, it works now. So, with 'Deathtrap One' and the Bowcam, we're ready to go find dolphins tomorrow...

Caro: Unfortunately, there wasn't enough dolphin action to get any good footage. I did film the 14 dolphin watch boats, but the 3 Humpback dolphins were rather hard to spot. Never mind, that's how things go with wild animals in the field. After a quick lunch back on board we upanchor and head a few miles south where the dolphins are often sighted. On the way we try out the dolphin trapeze, taking turns. It's fun! Hanging on to the bar whilst the boat is doing 4 knots feels very fast. Slowed down to 2.5 or 3 knots will work with the video camera. All we need now is dolphins. At anchor John rigs up a hydrophone so that we'll get warning when dolphins are in the area. All is quiet, no whistles or clicks, no dolphins.

22 February

Caro: The plan was to get up early and go find the dolphins and use the dolphin trapeze. But I guess it's one of those mornings. First thing we notice is that Cannelle has puked all over the cockpit. Wanting to get fresh water to clean that up we find there is no water. John pulls the water pump apart and that's fine. It's probably a hose that's popped off somewhere. Opening the floor to find the leak John finds a lot of water in the bilge. The bilge pump doesn't work! Now he's 3 jobs removed from the original one (cleaning the puke), we're still at anchor and the tourist boats are starting to arrive already. Bah!

John: You know those days, when it would have been better not to have got out of bed? Actually this one already began late last night, when I couldn't get any fresh water to clean my teeth. Pump ran, but no pressure. Too tired to sort it out, I left it for morning. Got up to find the cat puke and no fresh water to clean up, of course. Fixed the water problem and discovered several more (bilge pump switch failed, a contact block corroded, bilge pump not priming). We finally set off to motor out, but the engine is losing coolant. I'm fearful it might be the head gasket, but it's the reservoir gasket (stripped securing stud) that is going to be slightly less difficult to fix, though I don't have the parts. We figure we'll sail and save the engine. Pulling out the Genoa sheet, the Port winch pops clean off the bronze core (remember the self-tailer got damaged and the cap no longer holds it all together?) and bounces along the deck with a couple of turns of the sheet around it. True to form, the Genoa slaps open and flicks the drum neatly over the side, just like my Oakley sunglasses last year. I can't believe it! While I'm stumbling about trying to get a MOB position on the GPS, I realise that Alex is screaming. He's been hit by the winch drum on the way out the cockpit. It takes a while to work out that his wrist has been painfully bruised, but no bones broken, thank goodness. Caroline takes care of him while I turn my attention back to the boat and realise that the MOB position never got recorded. I punch in another, but we're waaay down the road from where the drum went over. I spend the next hour working through all the clues of headings, estimated speeds, times and delays to reconstruct the sequence, timing and positions of events to finally come up with a most likely GPS position for the drum. We have to get this back. A new winch is maybe US$3k with shipping and we simply don't have that kind of money right now. We've already borrowed to keep us in funds this far. Without the winch we cannot sail, the Genoa (our biggest sail) is useless. Neither can we motor; fuel is too expensive and the engine is old and leaky. We're all pretty depressed. When we get back to the likely spot, the water depth turns out to be 30m; pretty deep to go diving and searching. It's also blowing 20 knots. We anchor with 60m of chain out, taking two shots to drop the hook right where I want it. Casper gets the dive gear ready while Caro and I sort out tapes, wreck reels, lights, ropes... In we go, expecting to get only 20-30 minutes search time at 30m depth with a decompression stop at 5m on the way up (an extra tank and regulator is waiting for us, tied to the anchor line). Just as we go down, I say to Caro "Don't forget to have a good look around on the way down, you never know!" What're the chances, right? In the middle of the sea, we could easily be 100m off target, spotting a single drum in 30m water depth? Well guess what? Halfway down we see the bottom and almost immediately spot the winch, lying less than a boat length from the anchor. Just amazing! I spiral down off the anchor chain, pick up the drum, take out my regulator and kiss the sand where it lay. I'm delirious with joy! Then I look around; there's a load of neat stuff down here. Big sponges, good-sized fish... I beckon Caro down and we explore for 20 minutes. Back on the boat we have just enough time to get back and put Caro ashore to go to Stonetown with the Swedish gals. Alex and I cook up a Spaghetti alla Carbonara (my style, with fresh eggs broken onto the cooked pasta and allowed to gel with the fried bacon bits). a film, then bed.

23 February

Caro: I cannot believe a week has passed already and here I am back in Stone Town. I buy a couple of buckets (they keep breaking) and some chickenwire. We need to make a cover for the hydroponics so that Cannelle cannot eat the little plants. There's also time for a nice lunch and the internet cafe. Late afternoon we return to Dimbani with enough fruit and veg for another week.

John: The plan was for the kids to be in bed by 22:00, up at 08:00, breakfasted by 09:00 then 2 hours of schoolwork with a break in the middle by midday. Reality check. After the film they got to bed at 23:00, were up at 09:00-09:30 and off to get bread for breakfast by 10:00. Oh well... I got some work done on the website and sorted emails. The kids did get some schoolwork done, though Casper's science is getting pretty tricky without being able to team up with other kids and do the project assignments. His biology tests are already exceding my meagre knowledge.

24 February

Caro: It's John's turn to go out with a tourist boat to film their interaction with the dolphins. On the way to the boat he slips and breaks off the arm of the underwater case. Bugger. It looks like it will be fixable, but no filming tourists in the water today. There is a good size group of Bottlenose this morning and John films a lot of the boat action. In the afternoon we sent the kids ashore to play near the beach and get rid of some of their energy. They have great fun holding jellyfish fights with some local boys.

John: Caro figures I need the break - the atmosphere on board is not good with the kids always at each other and driving me nuts in the process. Of course, we weren't figuring on breaking the camera case. Still, I have a good morning out and get to see some tursiops. Afterwards Caro comes ashore and we interview a few and finally manage to get some quotable lines (though some are in Italian and will need translating).

25 February

Caro: John and Casper are off to Stone Town on a dalla dalla in search of a welding place. Alex stays on board and does a couple of hours of school work. I work all day on the computer, catching up with preparing projects for the site.

John: I thought it would be good for Cas to come with me, and to separate the kids for a day. Oh my, was the dalla dalla an experience! A dalla dalla is a pickup truck with a hard cover mounted on the flatbed, seating maybe 4-6 each side on micro-thin foam-covered wooden benches with around 1.3 m of headroom. I can't get in one without bending my knees and kind of hopping along. When I sit down my head presses up against the steel roof and gets banged when the 'conductor' leaps around on the roof, stowing baskets of fish and chickens, whatever. The ceiling is wallpapered with a plastic veneer in delicate patterns. The women get to sit inside. If it's crowded the men hang on the outside at the back. Cas and I were granted honorary women status for the trip, with much grinning and laughter. Once 12-15 are on board, it seems full. Then the dalla dalla stops and picks up another 4, they somehow squeeze backsides and worm their way into the space. Now it's really full. Then we stop and take on another couple. Then another. At the peak, there were 28 people on the dalla dalla, including the 6 hanging on the back, the one on the roof and babes in arms. I would not have believed it possible. Everyone just gets along with a laugh and a smile. They take care of each other's babies, bags, baskets and chickens, as they are obliged to scramble and squeeze in and out. Cramped, uncomfortable, but a lot of fun. Once. But I don't want to go that way again! In town we manage to set up for some small jobs to be done to fix the Genoa winch and the studs on the engine (that cause the reservoir to leak all our coolant) and get the camera base plate welded up. So not a bad day. Logging on to the DHL site I find, what a surprise! our West Marine package took 3 days to get to Dar Es Salaam, and has since been sitting there with 'delayed clearance' for 5 days. Another epic DHL delivery in the making... On the way back I pass the time daydreaming of lining up the perfect job in Saclantcen for 2006.

26 February

John: So I figure we can't miss the opportunity to get some video of tourists in the water with dolphins; that's why we went to all the trouble to get the camera base plate welded up yesterday, right? Caro says she'd like to work on the website some more, so I agree to go. Come this morning, Caro wants to go too - tired of staring at a computer screen. So off we go and find a big group of secondary school kids, some Norwegian on an exchange programme, going out in two boats. Everything is set, we are on our way. The kids are noisy and not really paying much attention to what is going on in the water. More interested in playing with their handphones, taking pictures and beaming pop songs back and forth. The drivers find a small group of humpback dolphins (no good for swimming with) and track them for a while. The kids don't care. After 45 minutes the drivers head back to the snorkeling spot. A morning wasted. No-one even got in the water. Oh well, luck of the draw. There's no point trying to get any interviews, of course. So we head back to Jocara and have lunch, then prepare the boat for going out this afternoon with Abbas to dive. I charge tanks and the kids clear the decks. At 13:45 we learn that Cabs resturant is busy and Abbas' partner has not showed up so he's cancelling the dive. Bah!

Caro: Well, we'll just go without Abbas and see if we can find the place. We have, sort of, instructions; it's just before the lone palm tree going south. Eventually, we spot a lonely tree and drop the anchor in 15 meters not far of the edge of the reef. Down we go the 3 of us. Alex cannot come because this dive will be too deep. Descending down the anchor we see we are near a drop-off with promising ledges and soon we see a Napoleon wrasse. Exploring under the ledges we find a cave with a huge grouper. It scares the hell out of John because he doesn't see it until he's almost on top of it. He says his head could easily have fitted in it's mouth. I got the fish on video and it's big, but it doesn't look that huge! There's not much coral on this dive, but it's nice to see some big stuff.

27 February

Caro: Today we really wanted to find some dolphins and use the trapeze. We spent all day motoring around Menai Bay, but didn't see a single one. Where are they? The researchers are also complaining the dolphins are hard to find, much harder than other years. Rather disappointed we head back to Dimbani to anchor in the now very familiar spot in front of the village.

John: This is so frustrating! We have the gear all prepared and spend an entire day, not to mention precious fuel, with not a single sighting. The kids are bored, we're tired and frustrated, the sea has too much swell to be comfortable, so we're all in a funk by the time we get back. Even when we stopped at a few places to snorkel there wasn't much to see; just some rocks and sand.

28 February

John: OK, back to filming the tourist interactions. We still want footage of tourists in the water with dolphins. Not easy to get, especially now when the dolphins seem hard to find. The tourist boat I get a ride on heads north, instead of the usual south, and picks up some humpbacks near a small island. The group is from a cruise ship in port for just today, they don't have much time so pretty soon we're heading back for a snorkel stop and I call Casper on the UHF to come and pick me up. Another failed attempt! OK, OK, I know when to lick my wounds and quit to fight another day...

1 March

Caro: It's time to give up trying to get more footage of the dolphins and start working with what we got. Apart from giving Menai Bay Conservation Area all the raw footage and images we also want to present them with a short movie of our take on the dolphin tourism. I start putting together the best clips and putting them in a sensible order. John is working on a presentation on how the project went and what we learned.

John: I spend the entire day working on a Keynote presentation, learning this new software (like Powerpoint only for the Mac) and organising my thoughts about what we want to say. It makes a refreshing change from the usual fixing of engines. By the end of the day I have a presentation I'm pretty happy with, pleasing to watch and saying all the right stuff.

2 March

Caro: We work really hard to finish our dolphin movie. Once I finish editing the film John makes a great narration for it. When it's all done we're quite proud of it. In the evening we're invited for dinner at the Swedish girls.

John: Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow and get something done, even if it's not perfect. Writing and recording the perfect narration to this dolphin movie could take weeks to get right, so I just plough in and write the whole thing in a couple of hours then record it in one straight shot, no retakes. The timing's not perfect, but it's close enough. We're both pleased with the result.

3 March

Caro: It's goodbye Menai Bay and back to Stone Town. Anna, who loves sailing, and Hamish, their boat driver, are coming along for the ride. We're out of luck with the weather, we have hardly any wind and cannot sail. Still, they enjoy being out on the water not having to look for dolphins the whole time for a change. At Stone Town we anchor at our old anchoring spot in front of Africa House Hotel. We've managed to arrange a watchmen for a few hours, so that we can go ashore for dinner which we're all really fancy. Here in Stone Town we cannot leave the dinghy or the boat alone. There's a lot of crime here and we have seen a lot of interest in the dinghy. We're pretty sure if we'd leave it on the beach in the dark the outboard would disappear.

John: Our concerns for the boat and dinghy are heightened by the French single-hander we met in Dimbani who had just come from Stonetown, having left after his boat was broken into and all the valuable electronics, cameras, binoculars etc., taken one night. This kind of thing is understandable, when people here earn maybe $5 a day (if they can find work at all) but leaves a sour feeling about an otherwise delightful old arabic trading town.

4 March

Caro: Today we get to present our findings and movie of the dolphin tourism at Menai Bay (see Menai Bay Dolphin page for details). John has prepared a great presentation which he first presents at Menai Bay Conservation offices in the morning and again at IMS in the afternoon. It's well received and people seem to like our movie. Besides our dolphin movie they also have a tape with all the material we took and can now make their own movies for their own purposes.

John: The response to the presentation and movie was very positive, encouraging. The Swedish researchers seemed to think it really helped to have an outside voice say many of the things they have been hammering on for years, with little real progress. Making one presentation in the morning and another in the afternoon pretty much carves up the day and there's the usual anti-climax feeling I get afterwards, when the adrenaline of being the centre of attention has worn off. Still, I am keen to get on with the customs stuff to get our DHL packages, so I head off to the airport with Saleh from IMS hoping to catch them before they close for the day. It looks like both packages are at the airport, but I have to go there with the boat papers to get them cleared out without paying duty. In the event, it's a lot more complicated than that. I have to hire yet another local agent to make the clearance papers for the West Marine package, but the air pump is addressed to TMSI not Jocara and the Customs say I have to pay over US$200 in import taxes (10%) and VAT (20%). I don't have that kind of money on me (would I pay it if I did?), and by now it's 5 p.m. on a Friday, so I guess we're here for the weekend. Just to round off the day Alex over-pumps the water and blows the freshwater system so we don't have fresh water at all at the moment.

5 March

Caro: I've got an infection in my thumb and index finger of my right hand that seems to be getting worse. John's put some anti-biotic cream on it and bandaged them up. I'm feeling really tired and rundown. We should be on our way to the Seychelles by now, but we're being delayed once again. If it's not one thing it's another.

John: I go to IMS in the morning to meet up with Mohammed (the stores man) to see how we can deal with the air pump problem. We agree that he and I wil go down Monday at 09:30 to see customs. He'll tell them the pump is not for IMS and we'll try and get it out without paying duty. We're all worn out today and spend most of the day fiddling about with small stuff. I can finally fix the water pump; the new switch is an improved design so maybe it will even stay fixed for a while.

6 March

John: Sunday. I set about trying to cure the engine freshwater leak, fitting the new studs on the heat exchanger, though they're not very well-machined and I'm worried that they won't take the strain. I can't get the studs out without removing the exchanger, which means all the hoses and other stuff (many of which are weak and I hate disturbing them again for fear of splitting them open). When I do finally get it all back together the saltwater part of the exchanger leaks and, tightening the securing nut, it splits and now I have salt water gushing all over the place, especially over the 140 Amp alternator. Priceless! So, we're not going anywhere just yet, then. Another job for the machinists at the little shipyard down the road.

7 March

John: I go to IMS to meet up with Mohammed, but he's not in; he has malaria. People here take Malaria in their stride, something that they get from time to time, like a cold. Of course, it kills some. Narriman offers to write a letter and maybe can come down to the airport with me. I nip off to see the shipyard while I wait for her. The guy there can machine a new brass nut for the heat exchanger, it should be ready tomorrow morning. Narriman, Juma and I set off for customs around 11:20. By 12:40 we've been back and forth to the local agent (who's not in this morning and his minions don't know how to operate the computer) and have worn them down so they're about ready to accept the idea of releasing the pump without duty. But we have to make yet another trip to the local agent and customs closes for lunch just by the time we get back. One of the customs people is playing a 'patience' card game on the computer. I take Narriman and Juma to lunch at Amore Mio (a small Itlaian restauarant on the shore near where Jocara is anchored). Caroline joins us; she's been working on a Safari movie all morning. After lunch, we set off for the airport again. Finally, by about 15:30, we get the pump. What a day's struggle! Caro's fingers are not looking good. Her thumb, particularly, seems to have a deep infection and it looks systemic. We agree that she should start an antibiotics course to clear it up.

Caro: A good thing about being delayed is that now I have time to get up to date with the web site. Get more stuff up and make it a better site. Also, I'm starting to put together a movie of our safari and Mount Meru trip. It's fun seeing the footage and it brings back many wonderful memories.

8 March

John: Why do I feel so worn down? I planned to go and get my new brass nut this morning around 10:30, but before I know it I have to leave it until after lunch, then don't get around to getting ashore until about 15:45. Alex and I go together to get Alex off the boat and separated from Casper for a while. The kids are tearing at each other on the boat. We arrive at the shipyard just after 16:00 to find it deserted, all long gone home. Alex and I convert our trip to touring the market for fruit and veg plus getting some anti-malarial drugs. There's a new Chinese drug called Cotecxin that can be used after a severe malarial atack as a stand-alone treatment. If we develop malaria on a long (could be weeks in this weak and contrary wind) trip to the Seychelles this will be a life-saver.

Caro: The safari movie is done. Twenty minutes of beautiful interesting animals. Wow, we've seen so much. I discovered that I actually do miss some things being behind the video camera the whole time squinting through the little viewfinder. I had not seen, for example, that the vervet monkey has light blue balls. Only now watching the video could I see that! I'm worried about the wind to the Seychelles. I really don't fancy taking 3 weeks over 1000 miles beating into wind. Oh well, we'll just have to see. First we will finally have to manage to leave.

9 March

John: OK, today I really am going to go and get my new brass nut (OK, OK, you can snigger if you want to). I arrive mid-morning, to be told that the piece is at the guy's home and he'll deliver it to Juma at 12:00. So I do some other shopping errands and call in on Juma at 12:30. He's not there. I get some lunch and call back at 13:30. He's still not there. He gets back around 14:00 and tells me he hasn't seen the mechanic guy. He telephones. He'll come right down. We wait together until 14:45, still no sign of him. I have to set off for Africa House to meet an upholstery guy about covers for the cockpit cushions at 15:00, so I have to leave, still without my nut! (Am I losing my nuts?) The upholstery guy doesn't show either. I get the hotel to call him; it seems he has motorcycle trouble. He'll be there at 16:00. I go back to the boat and ashore again at 16:00. He's still not there. No show. See what a typical day in paradise is really like? Even the DVD I try to burn for my mum doesn't work, though Caro manages to get one done for her Mum and Dad with the Safari and Meru movies on it.

Caro: That's a really good job done. A safari and Mount Meru movie ready for sending off to family.

10 March

John: So today I finally get to pick up the brass nut from Juma. Phew! Casper, Alex and I then head off for the fish market to get some red snapper. We buy two good-sized ones and move on to the internet cafe for the kids to do a couple of projects for MoE and our impending (really?) visit to the Seychelles. There isn't really time to get that done before lunch, so we browse the MoE Voila site. Pretty cool! The kids get to see how what they send back inspires teachers and students in Singapore, which is a good thing. After lunch at Amore Mio the kids head back to the internet cafe to put in an hour or two on their projects while I go back to the boat to fix the heat exchanger. Then it turns out that Alex accidentally printed off 30 pages of website material and they want paying 500 TSh a sheet (about US$0.5/sheet). Bah! I negotiate a 50% reduction. Then Caro and I go to see the no-show upholstery man but it's like an excerpt from Monty Python's Cheese Shop sketch - he's most unhelpful - so we give up. Even the DVD rental place is being so grumpy we've given up renting DVD's from them, so no film tonight! One snapper turns out to be suspect, so I braise the other in herbs, cream and oil and serve it on a bed of thin spaghetti for dinner.

Caro: The weather has suddenly changed. It started raining and the wind is suddenly coming from the opposite direction. Is it already the changover period from one monsoon to the other? The grib still says wind on the nose to the Seychelles. After the rain was a good time to clean the cockpit. Only my thumb wasn't up to it yet. It was doing better, but started to really throb again after getting wet. I should take it easy.

11 March

John: I hate to say it, but I really need to see if I can fix the engine high-output alternator. If we lose the generator for any reason, this is the only real backup we have. It's a miserable, greasy, back-breaking job and I don't even have a way to test the alternator or regulator properly, so I'm not much impressed with the whole idea. Caro is still feeling very down and we agree that we shouldn't leave until we're feeling stronger and she's got over her systemic infection (which flared up again yesterday) in case it relapses deep at sea. Today the kids need to let some steam off so we send them out to rig a trapeze to play with in the water. In the process they tread in a load of dirt from a plant pot they knocked over a few days ago (and didn't clean up), making a mess of the cockpit that Caro spent an hour cleaning yesterday. Sometimes it feels so hopeless! I set them to cleaning the deck. They argue and shout. I penalise them 1 hour of kettle blasters. They still argue. Another hour. Then finally they get their act together, learning to work together rather than both suffer and the noises from the deck become more joyful and energetic. In the afternoon Casper rigs a great 'Deathtrap 2"; a trapeze with a block and tackle held out over the water with the 4m pole so they can haul themselves up out of the water and drop themselves in it! He does a great job and all is going well, until Casper decides to stand on the shroud steps and urinate on Alex below on the trapeze. This is apparently something they've been up with each other to recently. Alex then screams like a 3-year-old banshee and swears blue and thick enough to stain the air. They lose another 2 hours each. Oh! the joys of parenthood! It's about this time that Alex finds the rat. Yes, we have (or had) a rat. Alex saw him scurrying down the bowsprit tension rod (I thought rats only abandoned sinking ships?) into the water. Casper caught him in a bucket (good 'ol Cas!) and I got a good look at this very wet rat. Not a large one, but definitely a rat! when Casper let him go he swam purposefully for shore, maybe 100m away. Oh my! You mean they can swim out 100m to get us here at anchor? That's a whole new ball-game! How did he really get on board? Tossed into the water nearby as a 'joke' or just by chance at that moment from a passing dhow?

Caro: I feel really stuck here. My thumb is slowly recovering, but now the engine isn't ready. When can we leave? Not that I'm looking forward to this passage with unpromising winds, but I do feel it's really time to move on.

12 March

John: Well, I got as far as spreading grease all over myself and the boat yesterday, and discovered that I have no idea how to actually remove the alternator. It seems trapped under shafts and bearings. Today I finish checking the regulator and connections, everything looks fine, and re-assemble everything. It still doesn't work. I guess the alternator is fried and needs re-winding. What I do discover is the source of the slow leak I've been battling in the engine cooling system. Nothing to do with my recent heat exchanger work at all; one of the freeze plugs has sprung a small hole in the middle due to wasted zinc anodes not being replaced. This is exactly the problem that seized our 4-cylinder Ford ten years ago in Curacao! At least I've caught it in time... this time. Problem is, the freeze plug in question is right at the back of the engine below an overhang so I can only see it with a carefully placed dive torch and mirror. I tried gluing the hole in the freeze plug; no dice. I eventually succeeded in getting a small ss screw to tap into it with a rubber washer. Maybe this will hold it for a while. The boat is a real mess and this is getting Caro and I both down. Plus, Caro's infection seems to be spreading to her whole arm today, so maybe the antibiotics are not getting the job done. Naturally, it's Saturday so we'll have to wait the weekend out to find a doctor. We give the kids some time off to go and find a video game place in town they've seen to play there for a while. Come 6 p.m. and we still haven't heard from them. 6:30 and it's getting dark, no sign. 7 p.m. and it's now truly dark and still not a word form the radio. Caro doesn't want me to go ashore to search for them as she'd have to cope with the dodgy outboard (it keeps stalling and is hard to start again - the 'Tanga Fundi-Fix' I paid over US$150 for sucks) and I might get mugged myself wandering around the dark alleys of stonetown after dark, alone. We're pretty worried, but there's nothing much to do but wait and hope everything is OK. Finally, we hear a call on the radio. They got lost and had a friendly local guide them back to the beach. Thanks goodness for the unexpected kindnesses of strangers!

13 March

John: Sunday and we're biding our time until tomorrow when Caro can get to see a doctor. We are about to set off for a late lunch treat ashore at Amore Mio when Caro discovers that the kids broke the Dolphin Trapeze this morning playing a bit too roughly with it. It's the fact that they didn't tell us that hurts. I go ballistic at being deceived this way and a big scene develops. Casper gets into a rut and will not talk. Caro works with him to have him open up, but he burrows deeper into his personal hell to hide, finally locking himself up in the forward heads to get away from the pressure. Caro, Alex and I head for shore to get a (now very late) lunch, calling out to Casper that he should give us a call on the radio when he's ready to come out. In due course he does, but by the time we're done it's 5 p.m. and getting too late for the kids to go and play 'Halo' again in the town video game parlour. Then Alex comes down with the runs and develops a raging fever and headache, all in about 30 minutes flat. We rush him off to a local clinic to get tested (only T Sh 600) for Malaria. Negative, thank the gods. We retire to the boat to put Alex to bed to rest and watch 'Finding Forrester'. When will we ever leave?

14 March

John: Monday and we're off to see the doctor. But how to find a good one? We call in at IMS to ask Narriman about her brother, who we've met briefly and who is a doctor. Narriman is not in but Juma points us in the right direction and we get to see him in his practise behind Africa House. He recommends shots of intra-venous antibiotics, starting with a double dose immediately, to be continued with further injections tomorrow morning and evening. He warns us that if this does not work he'll have to cut the thumbnail off to drain the puss from the infection. Not a pleasant option! Alex's fever seems down this morning, so he's probably on the way to recovery, but he's had a miserable time of it since yesterday afternoon. I finally got to fix a broken support in the forward heads floor, finding that the nasty sewage water that drained out of the head when I had to pull it apart to fix it up in January drained into this section of bilge storage. There's no drain pathway to the main bilge, so its been festering in there with my stock of turnbuckles, mewtalworking pieces pumps and fans all this time. Well, when it rains it pours, right? There was an amusing incident at the end of the day. I was reading in the cockpit when Casper noticed a Dhow about 15 m on our port side, apparently anchored. It turned out to be one of the Dhows that usually lies further in to the beach that had dragged and was now about to collide with us. After I got over fending him off and yelling at the poor guy (probably just the watchman) on board that things 'were not OK', however much he smiled and assured me that they were ('Hakuna Matata'), Caro pointed out that it might be more productive to spring into action and help him out, poor soul. So Casper and I piled some lines into the dinghy and set off to tow him back to shore. The 'sh!t-for-speed' 'fundi-fix' outboard actually did quite well (only stalling maybe 6 times) and on full (oh yeah!) power we managed to tow his Dhow gently back into the beach so he could get his hook in again. I think he was much relieved, and a little fearful at not being able to offer us anything in thanks. None expected, having made someone happy today was more than enough reward.

15 March

John: Morning. In the cockpit with my coffee (Oh thank you Spinelli!). Just as I'm thinking that things might be looking up (I do enjoy this time of the day), there's a beeping sound from somewhere. We have so many electronic alarms it takes a while to locate the source. It's the inverter. It is declaring a system shutdown, just like the last one that failed 4 months back (is it made in France?). My heart sinks like a huge cold weight in my bowels. Oh no, don't tell me we're back on this merry-go-round again! Just like last time, I go through the troubleshooting guide and nothing works. Manual says 'return to sender'. Oh sh!t! When the original 'modified sinewave' inverter looked like it might burn out the fridge and freezer compressors we ordered this 'pure sinewave' replacement and had to wait forever for it to be delivered to us in Merak (remember?) where we had to pay a ransom import tax to the FedEx/customs to get it. Then it failed 2 months later. We returned it and waited forever in Rodrigues to have a replacement sent out while the old 'modified sinewave' inverter (back online as a temporary backup) promtly burnt out the freezer compressor, committing us to a further US$1000 for a new compressor and a protracted search for a refrigeration engineer who could install it without setting the boat on fire. Now we have the same failure again. One lemon, built on a Friday afternoon, I can believe. But twice? Well, now I've come down with gut pains and feeling sick, so I don't get much done today other than fire off some emails to West Marine (the suppliers) and Xantrex (the manufacturers), but I do force some lunch down. The boat is also rocking pretty badly for most of the afternoon, making it tough to achieve anything in the engine compartment or forward locker. I spend the night in a pool of acrid sweat; no air, mild fever.

Caro: Twice today I'm back at the doctor to get double doses of the intravenous injections. It is doing something, my hand doesn't feel so stiff anymore, but the area around the thumb nail remains swollen and red.

16 March

John: Maybe I'm getting better, at least not feeling so sick this morning even if I do still have the runs and stomach cramps. Alex and I manage to get a good-sized yellowfin tuna from the fish market to take back to the boat for sashimi tonight. Meeting up with Caro and the kids for lunch at Amore Mio we find that Caro has had some minor surgery on her thumb; cut open and the infection rooted out. Ouch! That wasn't planned! She went in for an antibiotics shot and came out sliced and diced! Probably for the best, though. No work for her for a day or two. Casper is starting to feel rough, and by dinnertime he has a fever and sore stomach too. Now we're all invalids! Initial responses from West Marine and Xantrex look promising, but no obvious solution about how to solve our inverter problem.

Caro: Back at the doctor's it is clear that this bloody infection is not going away with anti-biotics and will have to be taken out. After exploring around the nailbed the doctor says the infection is under the nail and he will have to remove part of the nail to get to it. Oh sh!t. Nothing for it. Of course, the thumb is anaesthetised and I cannot feel anything, but I cannot watch as he pulls and cuts and scrapes. Oh boy, this is going to hurt when the feeling comes back. But it had to be done and at least the infection has no been taken out and the healing process can begin. After lunch all I can do is rest. I'm exhausted and my thumb is now throbbing with occasional spikes of pain.

17 March

John: Last night it rained. Really rained. This morning it's wet inside and out, dreary and forbidding. Everyone is collapsed in bed, lousy night. Casper is out cold, Caro trying to get some late-morning rest, Alex still recovering. I stumble into the saloon at 09:40. We're supposed to meet Juma at 10:00 to go shopping! Caro is in no state to run the outboard. Casper is wiped out. I set off on my own to meet Juma and let him know we have to cancel. I can't get the outboard started. By the time I start rowing the current has taken me halfway to Tanga. The oarlock is broken (job #2407). When I struggle ashore, I remember that I put the anchor on board Jocara so it would be easier to haul the dinghy up onto the davits last night on my own. So I have to drag the dinghy up the beach, complete with the deadweight of this stupid 8 hp sh!t-for-speed, non-starting outboard. When I get to the meeting point, Juma is not there. Priceless! Back on the boat, Alex declares that the reason he's not getting the hull cleaned as agreed is that he's scared of being in the water alone. He is very sensitive to jellyfish stings, and I think this is creating quite an aversion. Now he says he gets headaches when he's snorkeling, too. What a state we're in! The wind and rain really make it look like we missed the right season to go back east. Historically, we can look forward to 20-30 knots from the SE, beating to the Seychelles. That will not be pleasant. We are so run down now, it would be a nightmare. Everything is dirty, piles of washing to be done, cockraoches everywhere and now... Caro found a flea in our bed. Probably from Cannelle. But where did she get it from? As I'm hanging upside down over the front of the dinghy fixing the painter that the kids broke yesterday, spluttering salt water in the chop and getting rained on at the same time, I find it difficult to believe that I actually chose to do this, instead of, for example, sitting in a nice, comfortable office.

18 March

John: OK, so at least it seems not to rain the whole day. Just for an hour or two in the early morning, so far. I'm up and rowing ashore before anyone else stirs; off to the internet cafe to search for inverter solutions. Caro is out of action for a while, she needs to keep her thumb dry and rested. when I pick her up this morning to take her to the Doc's it's hurting and throbbing and her hand is also feeling hot so I'm worried there might still be infection in there. We have the wound inspected and dressed. It seems the Doc left some gauze in the wound deliberately to stop it sealing up in case there was any residual infection, to allow it to drain. There is none, the wound looks clean and pink, so the gauze is removed and the wound almost instantly feels better. What a relief! With Caro resting up, I'm doing much of the cooking these days. This evening I defrost the three small octopii Alex and I got on the market the other day and slowly steam them for 1 1/2 hours with tomatoes, garlic, oil and chilli (a separate pan keeps Alex's chilli-free), leaving the lid off for the last half-hour to reduce the sauce to a thick red consistency, served on a bed of penne rigate. Oh my! I do love to eat octopus, especially when it has that soft, tender bite and the deep, rolling heat of slow-cooked chilli! Problem is, I also love and so admire these amazing (and smart!) creatures when I see them with their fantastic colour-changing camouflage, flowing over rocks and coral, watching warily from holes under rocks. they've good reason to be wary!

19 March

John: Casper is getting over his bug, and I'm feeling stronger with fewer stomach cramps. However, Casper is now complaining of sharp pains in his ear. Poking around with the 'whatever-it's-called' scope I see his ear canal is red raw, balls of wax and patches of infection. Bah! a clean out and ear drops prescribed. Alex begins his programme to combat his aversion to being in deep water (defined as "can't see the bottom") alone by taking some dips by the ladder and doing a little hull scraping. The inverter problem is not getting resolved; the initially promising emails have fizzled into "we don't know what went wrong so send it back and we'll replace it". I guess that's what we'll have to do - and just hope it lasts until at least Phuket. The wind really seems to have decided to turn to the SE. All the other boats have left the S anchorage at StoneTown; we're the only ones left. Dark clouds gather in the ESE every morning and bring rain and wind. Just before dark, a small boat pulls up and tells us that signals station is instructing us to move to the N anchorage, so we hurriedly pick up our 50m of chain and comply. Now we're farther off the beach, no longer within easy rowing distance, and oddly enough the anchorage proves even rollier than the S side for the first half of the night. Caro loses even more sleep running about the boat closing it up halfway through the night when the rain starts. Of course, it quits as soon as she's finished and we're left in a hot and airless sleep below.

20 March

John: Time to tidy up the website and burn some CD's to send back. The hull is still not cleaned, Caro is out of action, Casper has an ear canal infection and Alex isn't happy in the water alone. I guess that leaves me! I also want to get the bilge pumps fixed up, the lazarette packed properly, the boat tidied up (before everything goes to hell in a rolling boat at sea) and a thousand other things taken care of. At least it's not raining! So, with a cheerful step I set about putting the kettle on for a cup of that wonderful Spinelli coffee and notice my first job. The microwave, above the stove, is really grotty with grease spat up from the pans. Not good for keeping the roaches at bay. So I begin wiping it off, and realise it's quite extensive. I get some detergent on a dishwashing sponge and move on to the wider job. Just about as I'm done with the front door and side panel I notice that the top is even worse. No avoiding it, gotta get it done. There's just time before the kettle boils. So I reach up on tip toe and lean forward over the stove to reach to the back. Now at this point I have to say that I don't usually have much in the way of clothing on first thing in the morning, so you can imagine the scream I let out as the soft skin of some very sensitive parts (well, one specific part, really) made contact with the side of the boiling kettle... The scream obscured the otherwise audible 'hiss' of bacon hitting a hot pan. I howled off to the freezer to chip some ice out (another good job done!) to stem the pain and reduce swelling (which can get pretty serious in this area). I had to laugh. No serious damage to the family jewels, but a little crisp and sore today. Later, sat in front of the computer (where my burn doesn't hurt so much as walking around) Caro and I looked at the itinerary. We are beginning to run out of slack time; margins of time we can use to make up for delays. Singapore seems so far away, yet I begin to feel the pressure of things to be done between here and there in the five remaining months. As usual, I end up doing all sorts of jobs that weren't really on the list but were good to get taken care of anyway, including mounting our elegant ebony Masai warrior carvings in our 'state room' (I call it that because it's in a real state, but so's the rest of the boat).